Eight…..8…..Eight…..

This has to stop. I wish I had a pause button. I wish I could gather the young people that are hurting tonight and give them a warm meal, a hug and a safe place to lay their head. I wish a city in western ND didn’t have to bury the 8th student this school year. 8. Yes, you read that correctly, Eight Kids. Mental health. Car accidents. Murder. Illness. Suicide. 8.

That’s 8 less future carpenters, doctors, parents, engineers, life-savers. 8.

How many more I ask?

This is one town. In one state. In one Country. Think about that. Start doing some basic math, even if it was as low as 8 per state that still makes 400 student deaths. In one school year. A cure for cancer? Might have just died. A fix for global warming? Might have just died. The chef for you 80th Birthday party? Might have just died.

How many more I ask?

“Kids have it so easy today. Kids today are so spoiled. Kids need better parents. It’s social media’s fault. It’s all the smart phones. It’s the lack of hard, physical work. These kids just need some good, old fashioned discipline.”

Have you heard any of these? Have you said any of these?

Mental health issues suck. Depression sucks. Anxiety sucks. Feeling lost and alone sucks. Addiction sucks. As an adult with coping skills and a strong network of friends these things suck. Imagine as a kid without a strong family or without friends and certainly without some of the coping skills. You just went to the next level of “sucks.” But Death is worse.

Do you ever gather around the water cooler or break room table at work and someone comments that they are really struggling right now with anxiety? Doubtful. If someone did, would they receive support? Blank stares? Or perhaps a comment like “Oh suck it up! Put on your Big-Girl-Panties!”

Do you ever ask for recommendations for a good car mechanic? How about a dentist? Eye doctor? Restaurant? Movie reviews?

What about recommendations for a good therapist or counselor or psychologist, psychiatrist, life-coach?

Why is it so easy to ask and answer the first list of questions? Why don’t we ever ask or answer the second list? Are they not just as important? Or even MORE important?

My Tattoo from this summer. Purple for epilepsy awareness, green for Cerebral Palsy awareness, Defy Normal cuz that is what our household does.

8 Potential film directors. 8 potential restaurant owners. 8 potential therapists. 8 potential Police Officers. Gone.

When will we take action? at 10? or 12? or is it 25? 100? How many youth need to die before you decide to make a difference? Does it have to be your child? What if your loved one becomes number 9 or number 10 or number 100? Does it matter then?

How is it that we have gotten so far down this road that life does not matter any more? How is it that it is more important to have a positive image in the eyes of a friend or family member or your supervisor or your employer than it is to take care of one another?

What are you going to do? Anything? Nothing? You say it’s not your problem. Oh but it is. If you make the wise-cracks at work about kids these days, you are part of the problem. If you are the boss or the employer that is so rigid that an employee is scared to take time off to see their therapist or counselor, you are part of the problem. If you believe that the next generation should just conform to how things have always been, you are part of the problem. If you see and acknowledge the problem but still choose to do nothing, you are still part of the problem.

If you are raising young people, HUG them, love them, give them boundaries. PUT DOWN YOUR PHONE. Go out for ice cream or a frappuccino. Listen to them. Engage in what is important to them. Have some house rules and stick to them. Eat together. At a table. With no phones. Try it once….you might enjoy it. (PS doesn’t matter what you eat, take-out, cereal or a four-course meal!)

If you are not currently raising young people, get involved. Volunteer. Maybe it is to read a book to an elementary class. Maybe it is to teach a skill to a school group. Maybe you ask a youngster to help you learn your new smartphone. Show-up. Go to the basketball game. Congratulate the kid that scored. Volunteer at your local church. Mentor someone. Listen. Be the one that kid number 9 can call when they feel they have no place else to turn. Be the hug or the warm meal or a safe place to sleep.

Smile. Complement a stranger. Help a stranger. Forgive. Such a small word. Such a big impact. If someone did you wrong – forgive them. (You will never forget, but you can forgive.) There is this magical power that comes from forgiveness. It is a weight off your shoulders. That makes you a little lighter in your step.

Be kind. Every person has their own set of struggles and quite frankly you have no idea how big or small they might be. Saying “Good Morning” or opening a door or sometimes just listening can be the life vest of hope that one person needs. Because “kids these days” are watching. What you do at the grocery store, just might inspire a kid to do the same. And that may be the difference in saving number 9.

Since I started writing this a few days ago, it came to my attention that on a slippery Friday night in ND an older gentleman fell and his wife wasn’t able to help him up. She came across two high school boys and asked if they could help. Without a second thought, they did. No recognition wanted or needed. Just doing what was right. Kids these days.

Lets stop at 8. YOU can make a difference.

• Is it too risky to help someone?
• Is it too risky to save a life?
• Is saving one life worth it?

Till next time, be kind.

Deb

This tree is a favorite of so many people that grew up driving this gravel road. It stands alone, but it stands. It has faced many, many storms but still stands.

In Good Times and In Bad

October 1996. I was working at Fleet Farm in Fargo, ND in the service center. Me. The lone female with 16 guys or so. It was a great working environment! Fleet Farm hired this guy from Glenwood, MN that was attending NDSU, majoring in Agriculture Systems Management (ASM). I was told I was to train him on the job. 

His first day he walked in wearing black Wrangler jeans, an IH belt buckle (that’s International Harvester for you non-farm followers – it’s the original red tractor brand) and a red jacket with a IH 1456 tractor on the back and “Nate” printed on the front. Blonde hair, blue eyes, all American farm boy. 

My first thought was, “nice – a good looking farm boy, I can handle that.” Then a quick thought of “now that’s the kind of guy I can see myself with.” Quickly followed by “what the heck…you just ended a bad rebound relationship, the last thing you need is another guy.” Phew……good thing he is just a co-worker and someone I have to train. 

Fast forward a month or two and we started dating. Yes, as Nate will tell you our whole relationship is based on a lie. I might have told a little white lie that due to being only 20 at the time that I didn’t have any alcohol in my possession and after a LONG, busy day at work (Black Friday and the opening of Toyland for those familiar with Fleet Farm) I could really use a cold beer. (I may have had a Bud Lite or 2 in my dorm fridge, who is to say?!?) Nate has always been the kind of guy who likes to visit, is truly kind hearted and like most young college guys, perhaps a tiny bit niave. He invited me over for a beer after work. 

The rest is history.

One of the 1st pics we have. Ag Engineering show February 1997.

Then began the winter of 1996-1997 with record snowfall, record blizzards followed by a record flood. Nate left for Iowa for an internship and came back to Fargo in December. He proposed one year to the day since we started dating. 

We finished college while planning our wedding for June 5, 1999.

Fast forward, Nate graduated from NDSU, we moved to Jackson, MN, he started his job at then Soilteq, a division of AgChem, and we got married in about four weeks time. 

The wedding was an event to remember. One of our attendants was arrested the night before the wedding (underage, a bar, a another person’s ID. I still giggle every year. This person just messaged me saying how happy they were to be doing laundry last night instead of in jail!) There was a small fire on the altar during the ceremony. A whole lot of people, in the neighborhood of 400. Drank the Ramkota Hotel in Aberdeen out of beer. Cops were called in the wee wee hours of the morning for a noise complaint. My family all ran from the cops. Old faithful (a new nickname for an old friend) and so many more stories. 

Our wedding party. Some of the best people in the world in this picture.

Wedding vows. In good times and in bad. In sickness and in health. For richer and for poorer. Until death do us part. 

We were so very young. So excited to say those words. Little did we know that those 20+ words would be so true, so hard, so amazing, and so full of love.

My favorite pic from our wedding. We walked out of church, stopped and kissed. Totally unplanned.

18 years. We’ve celebrated good times. We’ve survived bad times and will continue to do so. We’ve supported each other through depression and anxiety and high risk pregnancy and the diagnosis of a child with a brain malformation and through whole winter’s without the stomach flu and always knowing full well that we are blessed beyond belief in the health department. 

Richer and poorer. Fiscal business has to be one of the most difficult pieces of marriage. Debt. School loans. Credit cards. Vehicles.  House. Medical bills. Low paying jobs. Awesome sounding jobs that just don’t materialize. Lost jobs. Pay cuts. Pay raises. Commissions. Unexpected break downs. Bad decisions. Budgets. Loans. Dave Ramsey Financial Peace University. When it comes to money issues we have got this “poorer” part down to a science. 

When it comes to love we get richer and richer every day. 

If you know us at all, you know how true this all is. If you are new to my blog check out some past writings to learn more. 

Marriage. It truly takes two. Two to make the good times and two to get through the bad times. It takes faith. Faith in God the father, Jesus and the Holy Spirit. Faith in yourself. Faith in your partner. Faith. 

One of my favorite places to regroup. Our church, Calvary Lutheran in Grand Forks.

You see in marriage you are never alone. There have been many times where I have been physically alone while Nate may be out on the road, but in my mind and my heart…I am never alone.

Supportive. I support Nate and he supports me. Sometimes at the same time. Sometimes at different times. Sometimes for a moment or an hour or a day. Sometimes for months on end. 

One of the best parts of marriage is simply knowing that someone always has your back. It is learning and growing. It is watching myself transform into a kinder and less confrontational person. It is watching Nate become a little more out spoken and sometimes being a little more realistic. (Still farming on the moon, just not the entire moon!) 

Today we celebrate in two different states. I in ND with our Rockstar and Nate in MN with Little Bear. Both boys with appointments and summer activities. 

Little Bear and Rockstar. Always bringing you a smile.

So begins another fun and busy summer. So begins the next 18 years of marriage.  I have no idea what the next hour or day or week or year may hold for us but I don’t care. As long as we have each other, we will look to the future with hope and excitement and trust and faith. 

To those that have been married for many, many years….thanks for the example and encouragement.  To those newly married or about to get married….take your vows seriously. Things will be bad and things will be ugly but the good times will come and they will out shine all the rest. 

Say I love you. Give hugs. Get angry sometimes. Dream together. Apologize. Love. 

18 years. 7 addresses. 9 vehicles. 3 pregnancies. 2 amazing boys. 14 employers. Times of unemployment for both of us. 6 daycare providers. 5 schools. Too many funerals and weddings to count. Births of nieces and nephews and great nieces and great nephews. 2 individuals living 1 marriage. All from 1 day at a Fleet Farm. 

Our little Farm Bureau vacation to Pittsburgh in February.

Happy Anniversary Babe! May the next lifetime be as good as all the previous ones.